20

This Is the Easy Part

That night, and again the next day, Father calls Charlotte and asks her to please come over after work. He calls from the kitchen while leaning on his crutches. I don’t think he is successful, because they are not on the phone for long.

Jimmy is also glum when he gets home from school in the afternoon. It’s possible Aruna is still unhappy with him for asking her to care for Finn while he talked to other girls at the big party. Jimmy calls her, and like Father, he does not seem to get much out of his phone call.

“Beautiful, my sweetheart, my frosted cookie,” Jimmy begs her, pacing in his room. “Sweetie, just listen. I want to sincerely apologize again for—” He gives it all he’s got. “No, no, just listen. Please.” But I guess she doesn’t want to hear it.

Jimmy comes down to sit on the couch next to Father. They ordered a pizza for supper, and the empty box sits on the coffee table.

“I missed Valentine’s Day,” Jimmy complains, “because of the whole insane-party-then-Dad-jumps-out-a-window-and-Mom-comes-to-visit situation. I haven’t even given Aruna her gift yet.”

Father reminds Jimmy he won’t be giving Aruna her gift any time soon, because he’s grounded all week anyway over the whole insane party factor of the equation.

Mary has been standing in the doorway between the living room and kitchen, listening. She flops in the armchair. Turning to Jimmy, she asks, “So what did you get her?”

Jimmy shrugs. “A card, and her favorite chocolate bar, and earrings, and a cupcake . . .” He pauses. “But the cupcake wouldn’t last, so I had to eat it.”

Even Father has to laugh at that one. Jimmy smiles too, although he tries not to.

There is silence a moment, and Father mentions that he got something for Charlotte.

“What do you mean?” Mary asks.

He explains that he got her something for Valentine’s Day. Just a card.

“What?” Jimmy snaps to attention and leans toward his dad. “You did what?”

Father repeats himself.

“Pops. Do you like her? I mean, do you, like, like her?” Jimmy is baffled, and he’s speaking twice as loud as he was a moment ago. “What did you do? Wait. Start over. What did you do?”

Father sighs.

“Daddy!” Mary squeals. “Can I see it? Can I see the card? Where is it? When did you have time to buy it? You’ve been stuck here for days.”

He admits he bought it last week, before the fire.

“Can I see it, pleeeease? Did you write something in it? What did you write?”

Father says no, she can’t see it. I think he regrets bringing it up in the first place.

“Wow,” says Jimmy, his big mouth hanging open. “That’s . . . That is so crazy.”

“Why?” Mary asks, with a shrug. “I’m the one who told Dad she’d be perfect for him.”

Father interrupts, declares that’s not exactly what Mary said, and says that they shouldn’t get ahead of themselves.

When the hubbub settles down, Mary asks Jimmy to help her with something. He follows her upstairs and into her bedroom. I’m curious, so I follow as far as the landing, where I flop down and let my big belly spread out on the hardwood floor.

Mary has the big scissors in one hand and a box in the other. She gives Jimmy some plastic gloves.

“C’mon, help me with this.”

Jimmy looks confused. “Help you with what?”

“C’mon.”

“Nooooo . . . I don’t think so.” Jimmy starts backing away when he realizes what she wants him to do.

“I’ll call Aruna for you, if you help me. I’ll talk to her. I can smooth things out.” Mary shrugs. “It was my fault and my stupid party. I swear, I’ll call her. Tonight.”

Jimmy looks skeptical, raising an eyebrow. But he follows Mary into the bathroom.

I hear them talking, and arguing, and complaining, and laughing, and fighting. It goes on for a good hour. There is the slicing sound of scissors, and an occasional shriek from Mary or groan from Jimmy. When they finally open the door, it looks like there has been an accident. There are drips of red on the white tile. And a lot of hair.

Mary’s hair is half its normal length, cut so that it just brushes her shoulders. And the bottom half of her hair is dyed red. Bright red.

I know how important Mary is. Maybe like a bird with brightly colored feathers, she feels she must make herself stand out as a leader among the girl humans.

Jimmy sighs, looking around the bathroom, putting down the scissors. “You do realize that Dad is going to kill you. And then he’s going to kill me.”

“You’re already grounded. How much worse can it get? He can’t chase you while he’s in a cast.”

“Thank God for the little things.”

They decide to show Father right away, to get it over with, as Jimmy says.

They enter the living room together. Jimmy’s hands are stained crimson despite the gloves. Father isn’t angry. Rather, he looks alarmed, sitting up straight.

“Is the school going to call me about this?” is the first thing he asks.

Mary shakes her head no. She explains that lots of kids do it.

“Are you . . . I mean, are you feeling okay, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, Dad.” She shrugs like this is no big deal. “What do you mean?”

Father rubs his forehead with both hands. He could use Mother’s help in situations like this. But tonight is probably not the right time to call Mother.

* * *

Mary gets up and leaves early the next morning. She is excited to show her friends her new hair.

Jimmy washes his hands repeatedly, but they are still red. He finally gives up, grabs his backpack, and heads out.

Father has not been to work this week, stuck at home all day every day. He is bored and restless. I have heard him say that he is sick of wearing sweatpants, but they are easy to get on over his cast. So Father wears gray sweatpants and a white T-shirt. It’s nothing special, but he looks comfortable and I think it suits him.

Father goes to the hutch in the dining room and pulls out the card he bought for Charlotte. He sits at the dining room table, pen in hand, alternately staring at it and looking at the wall. We listen to the grandfather clock tick as the minutes go by.

I can see how Father might find it hard to impress a woman like Charlotte. She seems very intelligent and fluid in her conversations. Father, on the other hand, is not the type to make a great speech. He never speaks with big words or poetic language. He is simple, but direct.

Finally, he writes something down.

Father makes a deal with Jimmy and Mary when they get home from school. He says he will lift their punishment of being grounded and give Jimmy money to take Mary to the mall and get supper at the food court. As long as they clear out for a while so he can talk to Charlotte and give her the card.

They are momentarily speechless. Mary’s innocent face looks puzzled, a baby face framed by her newly shocking two-toned hair. Jimmy grabs the money from his father’s hand.

“Thanks, Pops.” He ushers Mary out before Father can change his mind. “C’mon, Mare. You’ll be a big hit at the mall.”

Not long after, Charlotte arrives. She walks in with caution, swinging the door open slowly.

Father is quick to meet her at the door, leaning on his crutches, and tells her again that he is really sorry for not calling her earlier in the week. He shows her that he’s had Jimmy bring Finn downstairs. The baby waits on a blue blanket that lies on the living room floor.

It is hard for Father to lower himself to the floor, but he gets there. As soon as they are seated, he takes Charlotte’s hand and apologizes again. He focuses all of his attention on her, telling her he is so sorry things have been strange this week. He tells her that he should have warned her Carrie would be here.

Finn plays with his toys, by their side. I sit on the far side of Finn, on the corner of his blanket.

While she would not talk to him long on the phone, Charlotte now listens to Father, looking back and forth from his cast to his crutches. She has on a pretty blue sweater and jeans with boots that come up to her knees. Charlotte’s little hand, all pink fingernails and silver rings, fits into Father’s hand, and she lets him hold it. She sometimes glances up to meet Father’s gaze.

Father smiles at her as he talks, finally relaxing because he can see she is giving him a chance to explain. He gives her a blow-by-blow account of the whole weekend: the phone call that sent him running out, the kids’ party, the big fire, the accident, the ride to the hospital, and Mother arriving and sleeping in his bed while he slept on the couch.

Charlotte listens carefully to the whole thing.

From the way her eyes flicker up to look at him—and rest for a moment before turning back down to Finn—I get the impression that it almost doesn’t matter anymore what he is saying. Because I think I know how this will end. I think she has decided that she will let him kiss her.

I marvel at how different Charlotte is than Mother. The two of them are so, so different. Mother was soft and curvy. Charlotte is tall and thin, all angles. Mother’s voice was loud and critical. In contrast, everything Charlotte says is soft and whispery, and infused with excitement. Mother filled Father’s days with desire and drama and unpredictable turns. I think Charlotte, on the other hand, makes him feel safe and secure.

Neither is better or worse. They are just different.

Father doesn’t mind that they are different. I can see it in his eyes and hear it in his voice, which is low and gentle as he talks to her. He wants this one now.

If I am honest with myself, I will confess that I still love Mother. I do. Something about this situation is confusing and makes my whiskers tingle.

But I know Mother is not coming back here. And Charlotte is a good human. If Father wants Charlotte, I want Charlotte to want Father back. That part of it is simple.

He gives her the Valentine’s Day card. She reads it so fast that he can’t have written more than a few words. I can only hope they are the right ones.

Charlotte glances up at him. “Tommy.” That’s all she says.

I wish I could read, I think. I am doomed to live my life not knowing some things.

From the look she gives him, her head bowed, I would say she is ready for him now. But she isn’t like other women Father has known. Charlotte isn’t like Mother or Jenny. She isn’t going to make the first move.

Father looks back at her. He’s waiting for her to do something. And then, as his eyes widen slightly, I see it dawn on him that he’ll have to do this.

It’s funny. He has been confident all along. And yet now, for a moment, he freezes up, seemingly unsure of what to do.

I blink at him. I hope he can see that I am okay with this. I wish I could tell him: Don’t hesitate. This is the right time.

Charlotte’s hand moves just a few inches, to touch his cast, very gently. Just barely. I hope he understands now what I already know: He has permission to press forward. With a quick movement, as if he might lose his courage if he doesn’t move right away, he takes her hand and puts it on his chest, right over his heart. By doing this, he pulls her an inch or two closer to him.

Father leans in, and then slowly, as if not wanting to startle her, he moves so his face is very close to hers.

I know I said Father is unable to give a speech, or tell a joke. There are many things he is just not good at.

But nature did not leave him without any evolutionary advantages. Now that he has her where he wants her, I’m confident he will know what to do.

Father’s back is up against the armchair. He sinks his hands deep into her hair and pulls her to him, to hold her mouth right up against his for a kiss. He isn’t giving her any opening to get away now.

Finn turns to look at me and smiles. I swear he does. He has a few more teeth than he used to, and he is developing a cute little grin to go with those big, round eyes.

Charlotte’s arms encircle Father’s waist, and she moves so close her hands slide up his back. She presses snugly up against him. After a while, Father moves back an inch to look at her. Her eyes flicker half-open, but she is in a trance now, her face flush and her mouth hanging open, waiting for him to come back.

“Tommy,” she says again.

I see Father is overwhelmed. She is a sweet, delicate creature, and it is clear to him now that she wants him very badly. Whatever her reservations were before, including the fact that he is married, have been set aside because her heart has made the leap. He moves forward quickly to kiss her again, harder. He drops a hand out of her hair and lets it fall to rest on her hip. A few minutes go by, and they do not look our way. I close my eyes and purr. Finn sits and watches and chews his rattle.

Recently Finn has started crawling, and they’re lucky he’s not in a crawling mood. Sometimes, the baby just takes off.

Whoops—I spoke too soon. There he goes.

Father has a second sense about Finn. He extricates himself from Charlotte, although he stares at her as he pulls away, as if stunned, like he can’t believe his luck. On two hands and one good knee, he catches up to Finn and grabs him. Charlotte is worried Father is hurting his leg, and she moves to take hold of Finn herself.

They end up sitting with the baby and talking, but with long pauses where Father just stares at Charlotte. I imagine he is not thinking quite straight. Once in a while, Father reaches forward to push hair out of Charlotte’s face, tucking it behind one ear for her. He can’t stop himself from touching her cheek, squeezing her hand, or rubbing her elbow.

While she is not dark and beautiful like Mother, there is something kind of adorable about Charlotte.

When my siblings walk in, Charlotte straightens up. Finn sits between her and Father on the floor.

Charlotte compliments Mary on her hair. Mary beams in response. They tell Father about their supper. Suddenly realizing what time it is, Father apologizes for not offering Charlotte any food.

“We have sliced ham,” Jimmy offers, sincerely. “I could make you a sandwich.”

When Charlotte declines, Father asks Jimmy if he could take Finn upstairs for a while. Jimmy gives Father a look while lifting Finn out of his arms.

Jimmy has seen the card on the floor with the heart on it.

If they were alone, I think Jimmy would make a joke about this situation. But since Charlotte is right there, he bites his tongue and just says, “Have a nice night,” as he carries the baby upstairs.

Charlotte floats into the kitchen and pours a glass of lemonade. When she comes back to the living room, she clicks off the light switch, so the only light in the room pours in the window from the outside front door light.

Father has totally forgotten to make a fire, but it doesn’t matter. The room seems plenty warm. He has turned up the heat for once.

They share the lemonade, drinking in turns from the same glass.

Once the glass is safely on the coffee table, Charlotte turns back to Father and throws herself on him with such enthusiasm that I scamper a few feet away. Father leans back to lie down on the floor, and he pulls her so she is lying on top of him, right on the baby blanket, his hand on her rump. Charlotte kisses him while moving her hands over every part of him she was only able to look at before: his arms, his shoulders, his hair. Her fingers trace a vein in his neck and touch his ear. Every inch of him interests her. They lie there for a while, and I start to drift off.

Suddenly, Charlotte lifts herself up. She says she forgot about Father’s injuries and she’s afraid she is putting pressure on his ribs and hurting him. He protests that he is fine, that his ribs are bruised but not broken. Father tells her he finally decided to take some medicine to help with the pain.

Straddling him, she won’t lean back down to kiss him, no matter how he vouches for his lack of pain. Father relaxes and studies her.

Charlotte pushes his shirt up to his armpits and looks at his left side, purple and yellow from healing bruises. She frowns at his injuries. She pulls his shirt back down, smoothing it gently with her fingers.

Charlotte puts her head down carefully on his chest, away from his bruises and just over his heart. Father closes his eyes and plays with her hair, running a hand through the soft waves. They are very quiet.

They are still lying there when I hear footsteps on the stairs, and I know from the heavy thumps it is Jimmy. His hand squeaks against the banister as he stops himself short in the middle of the stairs. Perhaps when he noticed the living room light was off he decided he’d better speak first before coming down.

“Dad?”

Father picks his head up a bit. “Yeah?”

“I just got a weird call from Ma,” Jimmy says, not moving from his spot on the stairs. I feel my ears instinctively twitch when I hear her name.

Now Charlotte lifts her head.

“What about?” Father asks.

“She wants to know if we can come visit this weekend. Stay overnight. And bring Finn too.”

Father looks at Charlotte.

There is a long pause. I’m sure the idea makes him very nervous. I know the idea makes me very nervous.

Mother hasn’t spent a lot of time with Finn. Will she be able to meet his needs? He is still small and vulnerable. I wonder if she might feed him the wrong foods, or put him down to sleep at the wrong times.

Even worse, she might ignore his cries. It is a terrible thing to say, but it did happen once before. Or if he does something naughty, she might get agitated and frustrated.

I have to assume that with Robert, Jimmy, and Mary nearby, however, these situations would turn out okay. Jimmy can take care of that baby just fine, if needed.

I think it is more likely that it will all come back to Mother, a mothering instinct that is stronger than any distractions. But what then?

What if she cuddles Finn and realizes she cannot let him go?

Or what if she takes him out and does not come back?

I suppose these risks flash through Father’s mind as he lies on the floor. But just as there are risks, there are benefits.

If the three children go to visit Mother, then Father could have the house all to himself. He has no privacy when his children are here.

And the children have been missing Mother in a terribly intense way. They have been waiting a very long time for an opportunity like this one.

Father catches my eye. I wink in agreement, giving him my blessing. They will go. They will be safe. Then they will come back. Right?

Father tells Jimmy that if he and Mary agree they want to go, then they can go. He puts his head back down on the floor and squeezes Charlotte tight against him.

Father and Charlotte should enjoy it now, because this is the easy part.

I know that in the cold light of day, tomorrow and the tomorrow after that, this may not all look so easy.